


A Gentleman's Guide

by morningfcwn



Category: SHINee
Genre: Eventual Smut, M/M, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-13 18:01:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11765370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morningfcwn/pseuds/morningfcwn
Summary: Minho acts awkward around girls. Kibum is an expert in understanding the world of women, and willing to lend his friend a helping hand.





	1. A Gentleman's Guide to Drunken Realizations

**Author's Note:**

> Something fun and fluffy about Kibum and Minho. I was thinking of making this two chapters long, but since I make things up as I go, there won't be any promises.

"Do you think I'm an embarrassment to all men?"

"I think you are an embarrassment to the whole human race."

The searing summer heat had been replaced by growing shadows and the setting sun. The streets were nearly empty, apart from a few lost party animals and a homeless man with a stolen shopping cart, eerily quiet yet oddly familiar. Rooftops were golden, but the alleyways between tall buildings were blue. There was a scent of early autumn lingering in the air. Nights were getting cold, and Kibum shivered in his sleeveless top.

They were making their way towards Minho's apartment with slow feet. It was too early to call a cab without making it weird. Neither was drunk enough to excuse the use of such an expensive service for such a short distance, or sober enough to realize it wouldn't matter if they split the bill. Besides, Kibum needed the fresh air after the smoke and the noise and the flashing lights the booze, and Minho needed an earful before the events of the short lived night could be laid to rest. Again.

"I still don't understand what I did wro--," Minho started after a long pause.

Kibum hissed.

"This," Kibum said, "this is what you do wrong. You are too oblivious! You think good intentions will make up for the lack of charisma, but good intentions won't get you a girlfriend. You are such a dork!"

"Plenty of girls like dorks!"

"Not the kind of girls you go after. For someone so oblivious you sure know how to pick the cream of the crop." _Like the daughter of my boss._

"I have high standards! I'm picky."  
  
"For someone with high standards you sure don't act like it."  
  
"How is someone with high standards supposed to behave?"  
  
"Like me, for example."  
  
"You're as single as I am."  
  
Kibum pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. He could feel a throbbing headache coming in, and he had not even drank his fill.  
  
"My original point still stands," he huffed. "If you are going to approach women by saying that your frog is--!"  
  
"Frogs are adorable! _You_ call me a frog!"  
  
"I am not your girlfriend, Choi Minho."  
  
"Are you sure? Because sometimes you sure act like it."  
  
Kibum gave Minho's ribs a sharp jab, leaving him whimpering and gasping for air. It made him feel a little better about the whole mess.  
  
\---  
  
"This is a lot better," Kibum said and hooked his arms around his knees. "We should do this every Saturday and forget about clubbing."  
  
He had curled up in the corner of Minho's couch, wearing Minho's pajamas, that were too large, in Minho's bachelor box, that was too small. There was almost a dozen empty beer cans on the coffee table, and he was starting to feel as drunk as he had wanted to be earlier. Minho's cheeks were tinted a healthy hue of red as well, and his large eyes were swimming.  
  
"It's not bad," Minho agreed with a lazy nod. "There's no way I'll find a girlfriend like this, though. It's not like people just get lost in the wrong apartments and fall in love."  
  
"I'm sure there is someone for everyone," Kibum said and shrugged, staring at the muted informercial they had left playing on the background. A happy looking woman was vacuuming the floor like it was the best experience she had had."Even for sloppy couch potatoes like you."  
  
Minho made an annoyed, puppy-like sound. Kibum burst in drunken giggles.  
  
"Don't look so defeated," Kibum said and stretched his legs across Minho's lap. The man reacted by instinct and started to massage his calves absentmindedly. "You're handsome and really, really kind. Anyone will be happy to have you the second you get over your shyness."  
  
"I'm not exactly shy, though," Minho said and raised his dark eyebrows. Kibum rolled his eyes.  
  
"Well, no, but you become socially awkward when you try too hard. You should just chill and see where it takes you. Girls are just people too, you know."  
  
"The clock's ticking. I'm not exactly 19 anymore."  
  
"So what? It's ticking for everyone. Even for me."  
  
"Shouldn't you start worrying too?"  
  
"No. I'm young, handsome, smart, and I can find myself someone the moment I feel like it."  
  
Minho did not look convinced. Kibum closed his eyes to block his suspicious face from his view. The room was spinning around him, but it did not make him feel sick. Not yet.  
  
"Actually, I don't think I remember you taking anyone out, ever," Minho said. "I've known you for ten years, but you've never told me you like anyone like that."  
  
"I'm just more private than you are," Kibum replied. "I'm not girl crazy like some."  
  
"I am not girl crazy! How does that even work with your theory about me being too picky anyway?"  
  
Kibum smirked and nudged Minho's arm with his toe.  
  
"You should leave everything to me," Kibum said. "I know how girls think. If you follow my advice, you should find love in no time."  
  
"Okay, Mr Ladykiller. Tell me what went wrong tonight."  
  
Kibum thought about it, and closed his eyes again to replay the scene at the nightclub. The crowded dance floor, and Minho tugging at his arm to point at a slim girl with sharp features and long, ebony hair. Minho's tall form wading through the crowd to approach her with a huge smile on his face. Her sparkling eyes as she looked at the handsome stranger. Minho leaning against the bar and yelling something stupid about frogs over the roaring music.

She had laughed. Everyone loved dorks.  
  
The dull ache in Kibum's chest. The dirty looks he had shot her way over Minho's shoulder. The slight frown upon her beautiful brow. Kibum mouthing 'go away' and narrowing his eyes at her. Her deciding that Minho's delightful company was not worth the conflict and being glared at. Her turning away.  
  
And then Minho's puzzled look and the confused questions he had spoken in Kibum's ear while Kibum had pretended to be annoyed. (It was not very hard, even though his anger was misdirected.) Kibum telling Minho he had startled yet another girl, and that it was better for them to leave.  
  
"I can't explain it like this," Kibum said. "It would be easier to show than tell. Maybe I will film you next time, and pause it every time you do something stupid!"  
  
"We could play the scene like this," Minho suggested carefully. "If you're the girl, and I approach you like I usually would..."  
  
" _What_?"  
  
Kibum was baffled. What kind of perverse fantasy was Minho trying to pull now?  
  
"You did say you know how girls think!"  
  
"Fine, fine!" Kibum huffed and sat up, combing his fingers through his hair with an irritated frown. "We can give it a shot. Imagine I'm a girl, I'm alone, you think I'm hot, and you have _one shot_ to make me interested in you. What do you do?"  
  
Minho nodded seriously.  
  
"You know what your eyes scream?" the idiot asked.  
  
"I'm sorry?"  
  
"Your eyes scream for ice cream. Would you like to cone with me and have some?"  
  
"I'm sorry, who are you? I'm a bit busy."  
  
"You're sweet but so cold!"  
  
"I can't do this."  
  
"What about--?"  
  
"Minho, I _really_ can't do this," Kibum groaned. "I'm tired, and I feel drunk, and I just want to crash in and pass out. Can we do this tomorrow? I promise I'll do this properly."  
  
Minho looked so embarrassed and apologetic Kibum felt sorry for him.  
  
"Was it that bad?"  
  
"Yeah. But nothing we can't fix. I have an idea. A really good idea. I promise I won't take it back or regret it when we have sobered up."

  
Yet in the following morning, he did regret it.


	2. A Gentleman's Guide to Theater Culture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems like the fic is going to be longer and intended. Hate to say I told myself so.

Minho knocked on the bathroom door, for no reply. He frowned in deep concern.  
  
They had been drinking the previous night, and Kibum had been both grumpy and hungover the following morning. Minho could still remember his swollen face and disheveled hair when he had lifted his head from the wrinkled sheets and croaked for water. He was the clever, social, charismatic one out of the two, but Minho had always one-upped him when it came to surviving the morning after.   
  
Kibum had been in a sore mood until noon, but Minho had assumed that the worst was over when he had insisted on going shopping after a few painkillers and a carton of orange juice. He had even smiled when they had stopped for ramyeon, and agreed to give Minho a few moments in a sports store while he ran errands elsewhere - something that would normally make him sigh and roll his eyes.   
  
It was only after they had returned to Minho's place that he had started acting strange. Minho was not as oblivious as Kibum often scolded him for being. He could tell when Kibum was restless or deep in throught, or when there was something he wanted to say or to hide. He had caught him chewing his fingernails - something he had not done in years - and glaring at the bag of clothes he had bought while Minho had been bargaining for a new pair of cleats. Judging by his behavior there was a bomb in there, and Minho did not dare to take his chances and peek in.   
  
"Is everything alright?" he yelled and pressed his ear against the door to make sure his friend had not fainted or fallen asleep. "Kibum, if you're not going to say something I'm going to break this door and barge in!"  
  
"Just give me a moment," came Kibum's muffled reply. It didn't sound like he was crying. Minho's chest felt a little lighter.  
  
"It's been like 30 minutes," Minho insisted. "You're my best friend, Kibum. If you need me to drop by the pharmacy..."  
  
"Shut up and sit down. I'll be right there."  
  
Minho frowned and scratched his head. Eventually he deemed it wiser to do exactly as he was told and take a seat on the couch. His eyes remained fixed on the bathroom door.   
  
Three minutes later it narrowed open. Minho's heart jumped. He straightened his posture and leaned forward, watching the door intently without blinking an eye. The sight was nothing like whatever he had expected. Kibum's eyes were not puffy and red from crying, nor was he pale and sweaty like a sick person. He was...  
  
Minho swallowed.  
  
He was the identical twin sister Minho had always hoped that Kibum had had.   
  
"You look..."  
  
His mouth felt dry, so he took another moment to calm down find the right words. Kibum was wearing a dark, bob style wig with a straight fringe and curly tips. It was as tasteful and subtle as his outfit, a white shirt and a black, fluttery skirt - something a university student of a wealthy family might have put on for a walk to the library on a sunny day. Even his make up was done, which was something Minho had not even noticed at first. It was eerily similar to Kibum's usual look.   
  
"You look like my best friend in drag," Minho finally managed to say. "What are you doing, Kibum?"  
  
Was Kibum blushing, or was his make up doing its magic? At least the irritated look on his face was the same Minho was used to greeting every day. It made breathing a little easier.   
  
"I'm wearing this for you, you toad," Kibum hissed back. "We can never do this with a straight face if I look normal!"  
  
Minho could feel the color disappear from his face as he leaned back and gave Kibum a horrified look.  
  
"Do _what_ exactly?"  
  
"Flirting," Kibum huffed. "Don't you remember? About you ruining things with yet another girl, and me promising I would help you out? Well, here I am! This is how seriously I take your problems. Don't you ever dare to say I don't do things for you."  
  
Minho relaxed and let out a small sigh. Right. Their banter from last night, and his love hungry complaints.   
  
"And you are wearing a skirt because...?" he asked and made a vague gesture with his hand to urge Kibum to fill in the blank.  
  
"To make it more authentic. I want you to behave like you actually behave around women," Kibum explained patiently and crossed his arms over his chest. Wait, was he wearing stuffing?! "Not just how you think you behave."  
  
Minho nodded slowly. Kibum would often go over the top when he wanted something. Resistance was futile when he had a goal in his mind.   
  
"Well," Minho said diplomatically. "You do look like the kind of girl I would go for."  
  
"I better," Kibum said and sat down on Minho's side. His knees were pressed neatly together, and he was not throwing his legs across Minho's lap like he usually would. "It took me forever to get the look right."  
  
There was a brief, awkward pause.  
  
"So," they said at the same time. Minho chuckled and gave a little nod to encourage Kibum to go first.   
  
"So," Kibum repeated with a small smile. "Where would you like to meet Gwiboon?"  
  
"At the library," Minho said, using the earlier mental image to his advantage. Kibum raised his eyebrows behind the fringe, but nodded.   
  
"Alright. Hold on."  
  
He got up and made his way to Minho's bookshelf - it was mostly filled with magazines and CD's, but there were a few paperback thrillers, too - and grabbed a book. The hem of his skirt swung as he twirled around and returned to his seat.   
  
"Okay," he said and took a deep breath. Could it be that he was as nervous as Minho was? "Do this right, Choi Minho. Action."  
  
Kibum turned his face towards his book, and started reading. Minho watched him carefully, trying to come up with something to say. It was now or never. He was holding all the cards in his hands, all options were open. This was the dress rehearsal, and there was no hope for him out there if he mucked it up.   
  
Kibum let him take his time. Minho inspected the familiar side profile of his friend's face closely, watched his dark eye lashes flutter as his eyes skimmed the pages, and his fingers upon his temple, brushing a strand of fake hair behind his ear. He seemed calm and serene, feminine but not overwhelmingly intimidating. Minho could feel their surroundings change and turn into an old-fashioned library with large bookshelves and a welcoming silence.   
  
"Hey," he said and scooted over. Kibum turned to look at him with round, curious eyes. Sitting close enough to feel his body heat, Minho could tell he was wearing some light perfume.  
  
"Hi," Kibum said and smiled meekly, looking at Minho and then at his book. "Do you need something?"  
  
"I was just wondering," Minho said and forced his most charismatic smile on his face. _Think, idiot. Think!_ "What are you reading?"  
  
For a moment he was positive Kibum was going to sigh and slam his book shut, but he didn't. He blessed him with another smile instead.  
  
"I'm studying English," he said softly with a feminine timbre. "I want to move to England some day to become a teacher."  
  
 _So you're good with your tongue, eh?_ Minho wanted to say, but bit it back in time. He did not want to be smacked with an Agatha Christie. There had to be something else, a question that bordered genuine interest without being cheesy or overly friendly.  
  
"That's cool," Minho said and nodded. "Have you ever been there?"  
  
Kibum stroked the pages of the book absentmindedly and nodded. Minho inhaled through his nose and wondered if his friend had had his nails done, too. _Don't get too excited now, boy. We're just practicing._  
  
"I have," Kibum said. "I visited Manchester last year."  
  
Minho's heart jumped from excitement. That was it! Something he could hold on to, something to grab and help with the flow of conversation. He was so proud of himself that it didn't even occur to him that Kibum was making things easy for him.   
  
"Really? I've always wanted to go," he said. "I'm a huge soccer fan, and it'd be awesome to see Manchester United shoot a goal in their home field."  
  
"Oh," Kibum said. He seemed a little cool, perhaps uninterested, but friendly enough. "Do you play?"  
  
"Oh yeah," Minho said proudly and grinned. "I play in a team, actually. Not professionally, but we are pretty good, even if I say so myself."  
  
"That's really cool."  
  
"You could come see me some time."  
  
Kibum seemed to hesitate.  
  
"I'm not sure..." he said and bit his lip, glancing at Minho like he was trying to decide if his appearance was worth the effort.   
  
"You know, you could just give me your phone number," Minho said. His heart was hammering in his chest. It was now or never. "I could text you the time and place for our next match. If you don't want to come, you don't have to. Just think about it."  
  
Kibum took another moment to contemplate the option, biting his lower lip, and then he nodded. Minho fought the urge to jump up and cheer.   
  
"Okay," he said. "That sounds great. Give me your phone and I'll save my number for you."  
  
Minho stumbled up and fished his phone out of his back pocket, handing it over to Kibum. Kibum chuckled and took it, pretending to save the number that had been stored in its memory as long as Minho had owned the phone.   
  
"What's your name, by the way?" Minho asked, feeling smug now that his phone had been returned to him.  
  
"Gwiboon," Kibum answered and looked at him straight in the eye.   
  
"Alright. I hope to see you soon, Gwiboon."


	3. A Gentleman's Guide to Soccer Etiquette

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I had an editor, he would tell me to cut a lot of the inner monologue. But alas, I don't.

_They were standing on a soccer field, but somehow the grass that had always been dark green was now a distinct shade of blue. The sky hanging above them was dull and grey, like an empty, white canvas. Everything was silent. Not even the nearby highway seemed to have any traffic on it.  
_  
 _Minho stared at his bare feet, and wondered where he had left his brand new cleats. The soil would leave the soles of his feet muddy, and he would have to clean his own footprints on the road when he would walk home.  
_  
 _"Minho," Kibum said and kicked a scrunched paper ball to his feet. Minho assumed it was supposed to be used for scoring a goal, and gave it a quick, enthusiastic kick. It sprung off like a rubber ball, rebounding from the goal post, and ricocheting to the sky. Minho waited for it to come down, but it never did. It must have disappeared somewhere behind the horizon.  
_  
 _"What have you done?" Kibum yelped. "Minho, you were supposed to read it! What have you done?!" He sounded genuinely upset, downright miserable._  
 _Minho opened his mouth to say something and turned to face Kibum.  
_  
 _But Kibum was no longer the Kibum he had been. The curly tips of his hair stuck on his tear soaked cheeks. His mascara was running, and he was clutching the hem of his pleated skirt with trembling fingers.  
_  
 _"Oppa, what have you done?" Gwiboon asked._   
  
Minho woke up in cold sweat. His heart was racing madly, and it took him a moment to remember that he was safe in his tiny apartment, soccer fields were still green, and no scunched paper notes had been lost.   
  
\---  
  
"You know," Minho said, stirring his coffee thoughtfully. "I had this dream last night."  
  
"Really?" Kibum asked and looked at him curiously. "What was it about? Was I in it?"  
  
"Yeah, you were. I think you..."  
  
Minho frowned and re-evaluated his judgment. Some things were better left untold. The dream had been so vivid it had bordered a nightmare, even though nothing horrifying had happened in it. As he repeated the events in his head he realized how silly they sounded in the bright, buzzing coffee shop, and how Kibum could never understand the how real it had felt in the dark of the night. In the best case scenario Kibum would agree about how odd it must have been before telling him to get over it. And at worst he would get stuck on the suprirse cameo of Gwiboon, and refuse to talk to him for a week.   
  
"You were trying to give me a note, but I lost it before I could read it," Minho finally said and chuckled. Kibum raised his eyebrows at that and took a sip through his straw.   
  
"That's it?"  
  
"Pretty much."  
  
"Sounds pretty realistic."  
  
"I also lost my cleats in it."  
  
Kibum burst in laughter, but it was not mocking or malicious. Minho mirrored his smile and shrugged his shoulders.  
  
"It felt more important when I dreamed it," Minho admitted. "I just wanted to tell you because you were in it. Don't you ever dream about me?"  
  
"Sure I do," Kibum replied with a clever smirk and leaned forward. Minho was all ears, feeling curiosity stir in his stomach. "I keep having these dreams where I find lost cleats and discarded, important notes. I try to find their owner, but I always wake up before I succeed. What do you think it means?"  
  
Minho groaned and Kibum burst in laughter, clearly pleased with himself.   
  
"Now you're just making fun of me," Minho complained.  
  
Kibum shook his head.  
  
"Maybe I was serious. Maybe it's a sign that we are soulmates," Kibum said.  
  
Minho looked at him, and was surprised by the look in his eyes. Why did he seem so hopeful? Was he serious?  
  
"Speaking of soulmates," Minho said slowly. "Do you think Gwiboon might really come to see me practice?"  
  
Kibum groaned so loudly that a couple in a nearby table turned to look in their direction.   
  
"Please tell me you're joking."  
  
Minho shook his head furiously. He had been able to predict this reaction, and therefore he had come prepared.   
  
"Please," he said. "It doesn't have to be weird. I just want to know what it would be like. You have to agree with me there. Even if I successfully ask a girl out, there is a huge chance that I ruin everything on the first date. I think second and third are quite safe if the first one goes alright, because she will know I'm not a total creep. But the first one is really important. I should prove her that I wasn't just lucky to seem to charming when we first met."  
  
Kibum sighed.   
  
"What am I supposed to do? Dress up in public? Dream on."  
  
"It doesn't have to be for long," Minho kept insisting. "Just show up in the audience, and we can go home together later. I'll make sure it's a day when there are two or three people watching at most, and I tell the boys not to talk to you. I'm a really protective boyfriend." Minho winked. Kibum turned away and frowned.  
  
"If someone recognizes me I will literally die on the spot, you know. You must promise not to revive me," Kibum said.  
  
"I want to see her," Minho blurted out. "Just this once."  
  
Kibum gave him a strange look that haunted Minho for the rest of the day. It was almost like the one in his dream.  
  
\---  
  
The dull edge of the wooden bench dug against Kibum's thighs. His dress felt tight around the shoulders, and his large, decorative glasses kept sliding down his nose. The tights he was wearing were clearly not designed for male use, judging by the way they kept rubbing against his skin, and he missed his comfortable sneakers that were easier to wear than bumps with heels. Even his wig was itchy. Sitting in the empty grandstand of a soccer field would have been far more comfortable in sweatpants and a large hoodie.   
  
There was only one team out playing, a bunch of friends in their white, numbered shirts passing the ball to one another with no rules or restrictions. Occasionally someone would blow a kick and the ball would shoot off. Whoever happened to be near the goal by then would improvise the role of a goalkeeper. Their boyish yelps and laughter echoed around the field.   
  
The view reminded Kibum of the dream Minho had had a few days earlier. He smiled to himself as he realized that his friend was wearing his brand new cleats instead of dashing across the field barefooted. Had he found the important note, too? Perhaps the dream had been not as ominous as Minho had seemed to think, judging by all the flinching and frowning he had done between sharing the few details.  
  
It would have been so easy to get lost in daydreaming and admiring Minho shoot a goal after a goal if it had not been for the stupid request to meet Gwiboon again. What had he been thinking? Kibum had always known that Minho was a bit of an off-rocker, not he seemed to have snapped completely. Kibum _was_ Gwiboon, goddammit! What kind of maniac addressed his best friend in third person face to face?   
  
The soccer ball bounced to the audience, and Kibum caught it before it would disappear under the benches. It was dirty and slippery from rolling around in wet grass, and made a squeaky sound as he tossed it back to the field. The boys seemed to notice his presence only after, and Kibum could almost hear them buzzing and murmuring questions about his identity. He fiddled with his glasses nervously. Minho's team mates had met him plenty of times, but never in drag.  
  
Minho turned to look in his direction. His expression brightened up, and he raised a hand to wave at him with a huge smile. Kibum waved back like princess Diana or the reigning Miss Universe would., and sighed under his breath. Minho was positively glowing.   
  
Was this his punishment for being a jealous person and a selfish friend? Had he agreed to it as an act of redemption? All those years of reassuring Minho's girlfriends that there was someone better for them out there, hooking them up and chasing them away while trying to keep new suitors from stealing the free spot on Minho's side were finally getting to him. He felt old and wrinkled and bitter like a rotten lemon. He wanted his friend to be happy, he really did, but seeing it actually happen and witnessing the events as a bystander was as painful as it had been years ago. He was too proud to give in and move on, and too stubborn. Minho had been his from the moment they had stumbled upon on each other in high school, and he wanted those precious times to last. He wanted them to last, as best friends, as brothers and companions.  
  
As soul mates.  
  
 _Is this not what bros do?_ he asked himself. _If a bro wants a girlfriend, his bro will become his girlfriend._  
  
The said bro was jogging towards him. The team had stopped playing and most were on their way home, each walking to their own direction, exchanging a few words, or gathering their things. Kibum stood up and swung his bag over his shoulder.  
  
"Are you done with practice?"  
  
Minho nodded. If it had seemed like he had been glowing on the field, he was positively beaming right now. Kibum felt awkward under such intense eager, eyes. Minho had never given him such a look over.   
  
"You look even prettier than the last time," Minho said so sincerely Kibum wanted to smack him.  
  
"I guess I put in some extra effort," he said instead, forcing a little smile upon his lips. He curled a strand of stiff fake hair around his index finger. "You look really cool, too. A bit dirty, though..."  
  
"It's dirty work," Minho said and shrugged his shoulder with a care in the world. He was still staring. Kibum lifted his weight from one foot to another and cleared his throat. It came off a little low, masculine, but Minho seemed unconcerned.   
  
"Shall we go?" Kibum asked.  
  
"Can I... walk you home, maybe?"  
  
"No, I came here by car," Kibum said. There was no way he would have taken the train in a flimsy dress like that! "But you can walk me to the parking lot if you'd like?"   
  
Regardless of the effort he had put in his appearance and how much he liked the expression of utter adoration on Minho, he wanted to get out of there and fast. The more he had time to think about it, the worse it felt. He should have started the whole thing as a joke. Everything would have been more simple in a cheap, neon colored wig and a scarf wrapped around his hips to play the role of a skirt. Why did he always have to go overboard?  
  
Minho seemed pleased with his new role as Kibum's escort. They took the longer route out of the stadium to avoid bumping in Minho's teammates, walking side by side, so close that their shoulders would occasionally bump against one another. Minho said a few words every now and then, but Kibum remained mostly silent. He had not been paying attention to the game, and feared blurting out something very anti-Gwiboon if he opened his mouth. They must have looked like a real couple - a strange one, with an athetic girl with broad shoulders and and tall frame, and even beefier guy, but a couple nevertheless.  
  
"Is this your car?" Minho asked once they reached the parking lot, even though he had ridden it hundreds of times. Kibum nodded meekly, sticking to his role.   
  
"Yes. I guess this is where we should part our ways..."  
  
"Thanks for coming to see me today," Minho said like a gentleman would. "It was so awesome to see you there."  
  
Kibum chuckled and nodded meekly. He was feeling quite relieved. Was this really it? Could this be the last time Minho would miss Gwiboon, and the whole play would be over? It would have suited the theme. The second and the third date was out of question.   
  
"It was fun to see you play, too," he replied. It came out a little rushed. "So, um..."  
  
"So, um," Minho repeated.   
  
Kibum realized he was stuck between a rock and a hard place - or more precisely, between Minho and the door of his car. It was not a bad place to be. Minho was warm and tall, but never pushy. Both of his sides were open, and Kibum could have slipped away any second. He knew Minho would not chase after him or grab him by force. He was free to go.  
  
But he didn't.   
  
One, two, three rapid heartbeats.   
  
Minho leaned in for a kiss. Kibum held his breath and placed his hands upon his forearms. Was this not what he had wanted? What he had dreamed of?  
  
 _No._   
  
He turned his head and placed a light kiss on Minho's sweaty cheek, patting his arms gently and trying not to look as wobbly and disorientated as he felt.  
  
"Good night, Minho."  
  
The salty taste of Minho's skin lingered upon his lips long afterwards. 


	4. A Gentleman's Guide to Logical Fallacies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the chapter that was supposed to be hot and steamy. Then it got too long.

"We sound like two gossiping school girls. You do know that, right?" Kibum complained. His phone was clutched between his shoulder and his ear while he scrubbed the dirty dishes in the sink. Minho's voice was excited and loud on the other end of the line, resonating against his ear through the speaker. He had been blabbering on and on endlessly, and at first Kibum had struggled to understand what had made him so very thrilled. Had Manchester United won a match? Was there a new video game coming out? Then the word 'kiss' had slipped past Minho's lips, and Kibum's phone had slipped from his grip. He was lucky it had not fallen in the dish water.  
  
"Kibum, you don't understand," Minho said. "We kissed!"  
  
"You did not kiss Gwiboon," Kibum hissed. "Pecks on the cheek don't count!"  
  
"It's not the act, it's the atmosphere," Minho insisted, determined to keep re-living the most romantic night of his life. Poor guy. "Why is that you sound like an over protective big brother when it comes to Gwiboon anyway?"  
  
"Well, that's pretty much how I feel like," Kibum muttered.  
  
"That does sound a little creepy," Minho noted. Kibum's cheeks were tingling from an embarrassed rush of blood. He wanted to hang up and cool off for a few days or so, but his pride did not give in.   
  
"Are you sure you want to call me the creepy one?" Kibum asked instead. He pulled the plug and let the water wash down the drain. "You are the one who wanted to see Gwiboon. I just made it possible."  
  
There was a small pause. If it hadn't been for the sound of Minho's breathing, he would have assumed that the connection was acting up.   
  
"I don't think it's that creepy," Minho finally said. The tone of his voice was hesitant. It was like he was hoping Kibum would give him a hint and tell him what to say to make it right. "Gwiboon is really attractive. Any guy would be happy to talk to her."  
  
Kibum bit his lower lip and inhaled through his nose. His blood was boiling. The whole conversation was getting on his nerves. Gwiboon was not a real person. Gwiboon was a sock puppet that had been created for the sole purpose of teaching Minho some decent social skills, yet somehow the patient had fallen for the therapist. Kibum refused to believe that Minho had lost his sense of reality. There must have been a simple solution to it all, something easily explained with hormones and loneliness and a ticking clock. Gwiboom was attractive, but Gwiboon _was_ Kibum.   
  
"Whatever you say," Kibum finally spat out. He could almost hear Minho flinch like a scolded puppy.  
  
"It's not a bad thing," his friend kept insisting. "I think it's incredible! The whole transformation... Do you want to know what my teammates said about her? Nobody was suspicious. From afar she really looks like a real girl. And with the fashion sense and cute gestures, half of the team was attracted, and the other half was jealous. Why would you feel shy about it? Is it really that bad that I find her so incredible?"  
  
Yes, yes it was bad. Something that had started as a joke gone too far was quickly building up to become painful and complicated. Kibum wanted nothing to do with it.   
  
"I don't want your teammates to find Gwiboon attractive," he said coolly, trying to gather the remains of his self control. "She was there for you."  
Another pause.  
  
"Kibum," Minho said. His voice sounded low, serious. "You know, I've been thinking... Gwiboon really is perfect, isn't she? Someone with those legs and that face, but with the personality of my best friend! I've been thinking about this so much lately. It's so natural to think that if you had a twin sister, I'd totally be all over her."  
  
Kibum's heart sank. His arms felt so heavy he could hardly hold his phone up. Minho's voice sounded distant in his ears. He wanted to fall in his bed and drift away for a long time, until he would open his eyes after ten years and wake up in a completely different world.  
  
In the end, it all came down to his genitals. Even Minho had acknowledge what a great match they were, how polar opposites complimented and comforted each other, how everything between them had always been so warm and gentle and natural. Yet there was no hope for them. Nature had built them to seem too similar, and nature governed all things natural. No matter how much he wanted to call Minho the disgusting freak, in reality Kibum was the odd one out.   
  
"I need to go now," Kibum muttered.  
  
"What? But I haven't fini--!"  
  
"Good night, Minho."  
  
\---  
  
The phone call had left a sour taste on Minho's tongue. Kibum had often called him an oblivious one, but he was not an actual brick or a flowerpot. He could tell when something was wrong. Unfortunately, with the cool and composed and hot tempered Kibum it was always as difficult to tell where exactly had they strayed from the path of a civilized conversation. Now the man refused to pick up his calls - something that had always driven Minho up the wall - even though he had mentioned having an evening off earlier.   
  
Minho stared at the phone between his hands. Would driving over and breaking in be worth the trouble? If Kibum would tell him to get out and never talk to him again, he would leave without further questions. In that case a broken lock or alarmed neighbors would not be worth the trouble.   
  
He had never had it in him to force himself on anyone.  
  
Not even when his whole body had been aching for a kiss, and his crush had been right there, staring at him with dark eyes, begging to be pressed against the car door and devoured. Kibum had kissed his cheek as if to apologize after turning away. It was obvious he must have known what Minho had wanted.   
Minho cursed under his breath and got up. His phone was stuffed in his back pocket, and his car keys to another. It must have been pure adrenaline pumping in his veins as he stormed out and made his way to his car.  
  
The traffic was quiet in the heart of the night. It had been raining, and the air was humid. The dark roads were slippery and cold, reflecting the city lights like someone had painted the streets with neon colors. Minho was clutching the steering wheel and fought the urge to speed through the empty roads. He was not quite sure where the sense of urgency had come from. Knowing Kibum, the man would hide under the covers in a dark room until he would feel better. He was not the type to do something stupid, no matter how hot headed he could be at times. Minho trusted him.  
  
It must have been the fact that he wanted to get it all off his chest. If he had been petty, or the type to jump the gun at first wrong doing, he would have let the situation escalate with its own weight. Kibum was not fully at fault, but he was the one putting words in Minho's mouth and making false conclusions, getting his feelings hurt over something he thought he knew but never bothered to double check. He was the one who refused to pick up when Minho called to say something important, or who acted strange and avoided to subject whenever it came to Gwiboon.  
  
He took a turn, and then another. The route to Kibum's place was so familiar he would have been able to navigate it in his sleep.   
  
There were no subtle ways to say "You look amazing in a skirt, and it has been giving me all sorts of dirty thoughts", but he wanted to try. It had to happen face to face, where Kibum would not be able to turn away and shut him off. For once in his life, Minho considered it his right to become a pushover.   
  
He parked his car in a space that would certainly earn him a ticket the following morning, but in his determined mind it seemed like a price worth paying to drive himself so close to the entrance of the complex. He slipped in with another tentant, and took the stairs to avoid an awkward ride in the elevator. It was almost like only a few seconds had passed since he had left his home, and suddenly he found himself standing behind Kibum's door.   
  
It was the wrong time to have second thoughts. He pressed the doorbell several times in a row, as many as it would take to provoke Kibum to open the door and tell him to scram.  
  
Unsurprisingly, it did take quite many.   
  
"Fuck off," Kibum growled through the narrow gap of his door. It was dark in the apartment behind him. The security chain was still on.   
  
"Your neighbors are going to call the police," Minho half lied. "Let me in."  
  
"Go away," Kibum said. "Why are you so dense? I want to be alone. I need to think."  
  
"You've already done too much thinking!"  
  
"Unlike some, it seems!"  
  
"Instead of thinking, could you listen to me for once?"  
  
"There is nothing you could say that would be worth hearing," Kibum says. "I need to cool off, and you need to cool off. Ask a girl out or something. You have been alone for too long."  
  
"I don't want just any girl. Listen!"  
  
"Well you certainly can't have Gwiboon! Gwiboon is not real! I _am_ Gwiboon!"  
  
"Just let me in, for fuck's sake. You think you know what I'm going to say, but you will find that you are completely wrong. I'm not going to ask Gwiboon to date me if that is what you're afraid or, or make some awkward love confessions to her."  
  
"That's not what I'm thinking, you jerk," Kibum huffed.   
  
Apparently it was. Kibum let him in and closed the door behind them.  
  
It was dark. The apartment that was usually so light and welcoming and familiar was not painted black and blue. Even Kibum was a dim figure looming in the dark, barely recognizable. The window behind him was the only source of light.  
  
Minho stepped out of his shoes patiently and licked his lips, trying to find the right words to put in the correct order. Kibum was not known for giving second chances.   
  
"I'm not in love with Gwiboon," Minho finally said, breaking the heavy silence.   
  
"You say that," Kibum said, "but you sure seem enthusiastic to spend time with her."  
  
"She is great. She is ideal, really," Minho said. "It's too bad she's not real. I'm still not regretting anything."  
  
Kibum let out a bitter laugh. Minho frowned.   
  
"So you're finally ready to move on, huh? I hope it was helpful. I guess practice makes perfect," Kibum said. His voice sounded thick, like these were not the words he actually wanted to say, and he had to fight to keep the truth inside.   
  
"I don't want to move on," Minho said, starting to feel a little impatient. "You are always saying 'Minho, you're so oblivious, Minho, you're so dense' but I really think you are the oblivious one."  
  
Even in the lacking light, Minho was positive he could see Kibum's eyes spark fire.  
  
"You have five seconds to elaborate before I kick you out!" Kibum hissed.  
  
"I don't like Gwiboon. _I like Kibum._ "  
  
The silence between them had never been that deep. Minho's heart was thrumming so loudly he would not have been surprised if Kibum had been able to hear it.   
  
"Of course you do. I'm your best friend," Kibum said weakly, but Minho could tell he did not believe his own words. Instead of hissing and cursing and telling him to beat it, Kibum was hesitant now. Vulnerable.  
  
"You know what I mean," Minho said and shoved him against the nearest wall. 


	5. A Gentleman's Guide to Certain Friendly Benefits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently abroad, yet somehow I still came up with this filthy word salad. I believe it's worth the wait.

Kibum had fought back at first, partially due to the shock of being assaulted in the dark. He had whined and delivered Minho's chest a few weak, confused smacks, but Minho had taken the abuse quietly. His body weight had kept Kibum pinned against the wall until he had stopped struggling and gave out a small huff of silent submission. Minho had chosen that specific, clumsy, absurd moment to press his lips against his, kissing him hard, and forcing him to react. To shove him away, to kick him, to tell him to slow down, or to open his mouth to welcome his intrusion.  
  
He had chosen the latter.  
  
Kibum's fists remained curled against Minho's chest, forgotten, but his lips had parted open and he had tipped his head to the side for a deeper access. He tasted like mint and frustration and unspoken words, and his flavor on Minho's tongue made his head spin. It was better that what he had expected, yet nothing like his daydreams. In his fantasies Kibum had been silent and passive - willing, but never as eager. In the real world and in Minho's arms, Kibum was a challenge. His response was fierce and feverish, his kisses were fire and seduction, and he refused to give Minho a moment to think or to breathe. What had begun as an act of demonstration was quickly escalating to become something far, far more.   
  
"You kiss like a girl," Kibum gasped against his mouth. Minho could feel his lips curl in a smirk.   
  
"Shut your mouth, or I will do it for you."  
  
He silenced Kibum's sassy remarks with another kiss. Kibum devoured it hungrily and rolled his tongue against his, drawing a low groan from Minho's throat. Breathing was becoming harder, and each gasp or groan or moan against his lips shot straight to Minho's cock. He was aroused and swelling against Kibum's hip. He doubted his arousal would go unnoticed for long.   
  
"That's rude," Kibum said abruptly. Minho blinked in surprise and gathered the remains of his self control instead of burying is face against Kibum's neck and biting it purple, like he would have very much wanted to.  
  
"Rude?"  
  
"Did I give you a permission to pop a boner, Choi Minho?"  
  
"Did I ask?"  
  
Minho smirked and rubbed his nose against the sensitive spot behind Kibum's pierced ear. His scent was driving him out of his mind. He had always loved pressing his nose in Kibum's hair or sniffing the nape of his neck if they shared a bunk, but everything was different there in the dark, midst of kissing, bodies pressed flush together.   
  
Minho was shocked to notice how eager and pliant Kibum had become. If his attitude was ignored, the man was practically putty in his hands, reacting to each nip and lick and flick of tongue by pulling him closer, begging to be touched. Yet begging was unnecessary. Kibum did not need to even ask, and Minho was happy to deliver. He had always considered himself to be a passionate soul, but the heat coiling in his guts had taken him aback. His cock was throbbing, and he found himself grinding it against Kibum's hip.  
  
"You are doing it like a school boy," Kibum gasped. The sound was followed by a yelp as Kibum sucked the skin of his throat between his teeth in a very not-a-horny-teenagers kind of way. "Let me show you how it's done."  
  
At that point Minho would have let him to show him anything if it was a step closer to relief.  
  
Kibum flipped them around, mostly thanks to taking Minho aback. His body was warm and lithe against Minho's. Delicate, even, but not soft and tender like a woman. He was very much a man, and Minho liked it.  
  
"Show me?" he stammered.  
  
"You are only allowed to speak if it's going to be something irresistible and sexy."   
  
Kibum dropped down on his knees, and Minho's mind was everywhere at once. The position of leaning against the wall while having someone - Kibum, especially Kibum - kneeling between his legs sent his imagination astray. The possibilities were endless, and most of them involved Kibum's pretty little mouth stuffed with dick and Minho's fingers lost in his hair. But since nothing erotic was coming out of his mouth, he pinched it shut and inhaled deep through his nose.   
  
It seemed like Kibum knew his way around in the dark. He fiddled with the buckle of Minho's belt with nimble fingers until it clinked open, and unbuttoned his pants with nimble fingers. Minho was holding his breath. The waistband of his pants was rolled down mid-thigh, and somehow his underwear ended up bunched down with them. He could feel the heat of Kibum's warm breath against his sensitive erection. He moaned.   
  
Kibum's silhouette was visible even in the dark. Minho stared at the shadow of his upper lip, and his gleaming eyes. Apparently, Kibum was one for holding eye contact even when the lights were off. Apparently, Minho liked it.   
  
It was not his first blow job, but as Kibum's hot tongue rolled against the head of his dick, Minho shuddered. His body was screaming for something rapid and tight, but Kibum took it slow. His hands were stroking Minho's inner thighs as he toyed with the lenght of his cock. The tip of his tongue traced the underside, licking it for it's length's worth before stopping at the crown and gliding around it. Kibum was playing with him, mischievous and curious like he was trying to figure out what made him tick.   
  
His lips explored and tongue followed, leaving a wet trail of saliva behind. Eventually Minho's hands found their way in Kibum's dark strands, the game of playful exploration found a new tempo. Kibum seemed to like it when Minho pulled his hair. One particularly rough tug resulted in him engulfing the head of his cock with his mouth and humming softly. The vibration of his voice earned something similar but rougher from Minho's throat. His hands were sneaking upwards, ghosting over his sensitive testicles before giving them a firmer squeeze. It all added up to the insane pleasure his mouth brought.   
  
Kibum settled for a prompt, generous pace. He was bobbing his head up and down, guided by Minho's grip. Minho struggled to keep his hips still and stop himself from fucking Kibum's throat sore, and so he took his frustration out on Kibum's hair. It was quite counterproductive, as the harder he pulled, the harder Kibum sucked.   
  
His mouth was divine. Anything but shy, Kibum sucked him off shamelessly. Hell, if Minho had not known better, he would have guessed that Kibum enjoyed it as much as he did. He could have sworn Kibum had let out a few muffled moans, but it was hard to say for sure when most sounds were drowned by Minho's own moaning.  
  
"Fuck," Minho groaned and thrust his hips forward. Kibum made a sound of approval or annoyance, but Minho failed to bring himself to worry as the suction around his dick remained and Kibum swallowed around the tip. "Oh fuck."  
  
"Are you going to cum?" Kibum asked, pulling back. One of his hands squeezed the base of Minho's cock. His voice sounded raspy. It was the sexiest thing Minho had heard. "You better not do it on my face."  
  
"I will do it it in your ass," Minho promised with an airy chuckle.   
  
"You monster," Kibum huffed. He sounded pleased. "To the bedroom. Quick, before I kick you out. And don't you dare to touch the light switch."  
  
Minho helped him up blindly, and navigated through the dark apartment with an awkward boner jutting between his legs. His pants had been discarded somewhere in the hallway. He would only need the in the morning, anyway. Kibum followed right behind him, and his warmth and his scent didn't leave him even for one second.   
  
Somehow Kibum circled around him and landed on the bed first, pulling Minho with him. Minho seeked his lips for a kiss, landing one on his chin first, and then the corner of his mouth, before stealing a proper one and lingering there. He loved the taste. Kibum laughed softly.   
  
"Take off my pants," Kibum said, giving Minho a nudge with his thigh. "You won't get another kiss until your dick is up my ass."  
  
Minho complied immediately. He moved back and pushed Kibum's knees apart to make room for himself before fumbling with his belt. The window let just enough light in to illuminate the newly revealed, naked skin. Kibum had pale, slender thighs. Just like his neck, they were begging to be bruised and worshiped.  
  
"Where the fuck is your leg hair?" Minho asked as he slid Kibum's jeans down his thighs. They were discarded on the floor next to the bed.   
  
"I hate the feeling of having my hairy legs rub against each other when I sleep," Kibum scoffed. "Shut up."  
  
Minho did, but not because he was told to.   
  
He was pleased to find Kibum erect and leaking. It was hardly to see in the lacking light, but he loved the shape of him. His size fit perfectly in his fist, and the sound he made was like a cherry on top. Minho had never held a dick that was not his, and now he had come to realize he liked Kibum's a lot. A few experimental tugs were enough to convince him that he could easily do it all day.  
  
"Stop teasing me and do something," Kibum whimpered. "Take this."  
  
It was a bottle, and Minho knew what to do with it. He forced Kibum's thighs further apart and settled between his legs, hoisting his knees over his shoulder and mouthing the skin of his stomach and inner thighs. He liked the thought of keeping him distracted as he popped the lid open and coated his fingers with the cool liquid. The sensation made his heart race. Not because there was something fascinating about lubricating his fingers, but because he knew where they would end up in.  
  
"Should I take it slow?" he asked and rubbed two slick digits against Kibum's entrance. Kibum shuddered and pushed his hips forward as a silent consent.   
"Fuck no," Kibum exhaled. "I want it rough. I can take it."  
  
And rough he got. Minho was concerned at first, but learned quickly that Kibum had been telling the truth. He relaxed and stretched around the intrusion of his digits, clenching and whimpering and fisting the sheets. His reaction was incredible. He was responsive and eager and quick to adjust, and tight and inviting. Minho's cock was slick from Kibum's saliva, but there must have been plenty of precum, too. Fingering Kibum open was easily one of the most arousing experiences he had ever had.   
  
"More," Kibum begged.   
  
"More?" Minho asked, pushing in the third finger to feel him squirm. "You are really good at this, Kibum. I wish I could see better. I could watch you all day like this." Kibum let out a soft sound. Was it approval he could hear in his voice? "Have you done this a lot? Do you use a toy, maybe? Thinking about me?"  
  
Kibum gave his shoulder blade a weak kick. Minho curled his fingers against that sweet little spot that made Kibum pant and gasp.   
  
"Fuck me you evil, evil man," Kibum moaned. "I want you inside of me."  
  
Minho pulled his finger out immediately and smeared some lube over his neglected erection. It felt good to be touched, even for just a brief while and by his own chance. Kibum whimpered a the loss.  
  
"You sure?" he decided to ask as he positioned his cock against Kibum's ass. He was soaking wet from the generous amount of lubrication Minho had used. His body was radiating heat, begging to be fucked, inviting him in. Minho slid the head up and down. He was not sure if he was trying to tease Kibum or torture himself.   
  
"I've never been so sure in my entire life," Kibum said. Somehow he managed to sound both annoyed and aroused. "I need you to fuck me right now, or I'm going to sit on your dick."  
  
It was not much of a threat, but Minho complied.  
  
Being inside of Kibum was the best sensation he could imagine. He was incredibly tight and wet, clenching hungrily around his dick like he was trying to suck him in. It was almost impossible to move at first. He took it slow, delivering a few tentative thrusts. Even those were enough to have Kibum trashing in the sheets, partially due to discomfort, but mostly out of impatience. Minho stole another kiss. The throbbing, feverish pleasure turned it sloppy and over eager, but Kibum responded with identical enthusiasm. His obscene, greedy tongue suited the situation perfectly, and lead Minho to find a heavy, thorough rhythm.  
Kibum seemed to be pleased with anything Minho had to offer.  
  
"You feel fucking amazing," Minho grunted against Kibum's mouth. His praises sounded clumsy even in his own ears, but Kibum was hungry for anything. Minho buried his face against the side of his neck as he fucked him, and found goosebumps blooming all over his skin. "You take me so well. You like it, don't you? You love being fucked. Want it like this? Or should I got faster and break this bed and your ass?"  
  
"Yes...!" Kibum answered and dug his fingernails in Minho's shoulders. Minho figured it was a 'yes' to both options.   
  
He grabbed his waist and held him still as he picked up the rhythm of his thrusts. He slammed his hips against Kibum's. The impact of the violent blow wrecked a moan out of Kibum's throat, and then another. Minho devoured them all and grew keen for more. He wanted to hear them all, again and again until he would have them memorized in the back of his mind.   
  
"Minho, Minho..." Kibum murmured as he clawed his back. It sounded like a prayer. "Minho, oh...!"  
  
"Fuck," Minho grunted as a response. He was nearing his climax dangerously fast. Hot shivers of his peak ran up his sides. "Oh fuck."   
  
He slipped a hand between their joined bodies as curled his fingers around Kibum's cock. He was still erect, and his lenght twitched and throbbed against Minho's palm. Minho started stroking him rapidly, seeking the rhythm of his thrusts, but he was growing erratic by the second, and struggled to stay in control of his own body.   
  
"Shit," he gasped one last time and pulled out swiftly. A second later he was spilling white all over Kibum's thighs and exposed ass, even his stomach and his own hand. His orgasm was heavy and violent, and left him feeling boneless and drowsy. Somehow, with Minho's cum all over his body and his bed, Kibum had reached his climax, too. Minho could feel him soften in his fist before he removed his hand and slumped on top of him.  
  
"Wow," he said.  
  
"Ungh," Kibum said.   
  
They stayed like that for a while, with the sticky semen between their bodies, sweaty and panting. No words were spoken, but Minho felt like some sort of mutual understanding had been found.   
  
But perhaps that was his orgasm talking.   
  
"You're heavy," Kibum grunted and gave him a shove. "Get off."  
  
Minho rolled off and caught his breath. He was aching for a kiss and a snuggle, but his heavy limbs didn't let him move just yet.  
  
"Give me two minutes," he said. "I'll get us cleaned up. Don't fall asleep."  
  
Two minutes later, Kibum was mumbling in his sleep as Minho wiped his body clean with a warm, wet towel. It was hard to resist the urge to turn on the lights and catch a glimpse of his relaxed, naked, fucked body, but Minho decided to respect his wishes.   
  
The moonlight was enough to illuminate his lover for his eyes only.  



	6. A Gentleman's Guide to Fairytale Endings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally finished. As some readers might be able to tell, I was hit by a writing block. The ending is sappier than I intended, but can you imagine anything more satisfying?

The scent of a strange perfume awakened Minho from his slumber. His eyelashes fluttered open, and for a moment everything was a blur of colors and spots of sunlight. He could feel the mattress dip under someone's weight. It was not a person laying down, snuggled against his side like he would have liked to, but someone sitting up.  
  
That someone shifted closer, and Minho rubbed his eyes with a drowsy groan. A familiar form was hovering above him, leaning closer until a wavy strand of long, dark hair tickled his cheek.  
  
"Sleep well, Kibum?" he mumbled drowsily, voice thick from sleep. Judging by the light floral scent lingering in the air, Kibum had already showered - and more. He was not looking at Kibum per se. It was Gwiboon that was greeting him in her fluttery white dress.  
  
The fabric of the gown was so light it was almost transparent. Minho's eyes wandered down Kibum's pale shoulders and upon his flat chest. He could see his skin glowing through, hardly concealed by folds and lace. Wearing so little, Kibum looked anything but feminine, yet there was something irresistible and incredibly attractive about the way he presented himself.  
  
He was smiling mysteriously.  
  
"I did," he said, touching Minho's arm lightly. For a moment Minho was certain he was going to kiss him good morning. "How about you?"  
Minho was not in a mood for small talk. Being able to see Kibum like this, to finally see him, sent his heart racing. He brushed his fingers along his smooth thigh and flicked the hem of his dress gently. Kibum held it down.  
  
"What's this?" Minho asked and nodded towards the flimsy piece of clothing.  
  
"It's your last chance to spend some time with Gwiboon," Kibum said and brushed a strand of dark fake air behind his ear. "Make it count."  
  
Minho reached out for him and wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him close. Like this, he could press his nose against Kibum's stomach and smile against the fabric of his dress. Inhaling his familiar scent, he took a moment to awaken fully.  
  
"Is that how you would like to spend the morning?" Kibum asked, combing his fingers through Minho's thick hair.  
  
"No. I'm just recharging."  
  
"Recharging for what?"  
  
Minho could almost hear Kibum's frown.  
  
"You will see," he replied deviously, pushing his hands up Kibum's smooth thighs. His skin was warm to touch, inviting and flawless.  
  
The high pitched sound Kibum made was worth the effort of flipping them around. Minho hovered above him with a devious smile on his lips, hands on the both sides of his head, devouring the sight of his flushed face and wide, surprised eyes. The disheveled wig and the white dress reminded him of Gwiboon, but his sweet expression was all Kibum. Kibum was Gwiboon, and Minho loved them both as he was.  
  
He leaned in for a sloppy morning kiss. Kibum tasted like mint and golden dawn, responding to his kisses hungrily the second he got over the most immediate shock. Minho devoured him. He wanted to taste him, feeling possessive over those kisses, almost like some othermight have claimed them overnight. But his kisses were the same as last night, confused at first, and then curious. Devious at times, even, and then demanding. Reserved for him only. Kibum was practically melting against him.  
  
The kiss broke, and Kibum looked at him with confused eyes. This is how Minho wanted to remember him, sprawled over the wrinkled sheets, drowsy and kissed and fucked with the hem of his dress riding high, almost all the way up to his navel.  
  
Oh.  
  
"You really take this cross dressing thing seriously," he noted, flicking the lacy edge of Kibum's panties with his index finger as if to test if they are real. The shape was distored by the bulge tucked inside, and that was the very thing that fascinates Minho so greatly.  
  
"Will you stop staring, you creep?" Kibum snapped. There was an adorable tint of red upon his cheeks.  
  
"Why? You've clearly made yourself all pretty for me," Minho teased, tracing the shape of his concealed cock with a fingertip. The sight was almost innocent, considering the dirty ideas it gave him. "Tell me... Is this just for today, or have you worn these every time under your dresses?"  
  
Kibum flushed even redder and gave Minho's shoulders a weak shove. Minho laughed and refused to budge.  
  
"Why are you asking, you pervert?" Kibum huffed, defeated. "Maybe I was. Have I ever done anything half assed?"  
  
"You haven't," Minho admitted. "I wish I had seen a glimpse of your little panties days ago. I would have realized certain things sooner..."  
He pressed his face against the curve of Kibum's neck, inhaling deep. Under the fresh, flowery scent his own masculine odor was still distinct. Minho enjoyed the combination, just like he enjoyed everything about Kibum. How good it felt to love him like this!  
  
"What sort of things?" Kibum asked softly. Minho forced himself to lift his heavy head to look at him.  
  
"That you're the coolest person I know, my best friend," Minho started, and continued quickly as Kibum opened his mouth to argue: "That I like you. That I want you. That I'm curious about you. That I'm confused at times, and that you know exactly how to piss me off, but even the negative things make me love you more every day."  
  
Kibum's mouth was still hanging open, but he was speechless.  
  
Minho kissed it shut for him.  


\---  


They lay there long after a heady second round of torn panties and disheveled wigs. Kibum watched Minho silently, tracing a single fingertip across his familiar features. The curve of his jaw, the shape of his nose, the arc of his upper lip and his dark eyebrows. Something seemed to have changed between the two, even though the comfortable atmosphere of years' worth of friendship was still there. Minho had broken apart and murmured " _I love you, Kibum, love you, love you so much_ " again and again as he had been buried in Kibum's sore ass for the second time in 24 hours. It was better than a daydream, and so very different.  
  
It had taken some courage to show himself in bright daylight. Minho had stayed the night, but Kibum could not have helped but wonder if everything that had happened in the dark had been some sort of hallusination, a drunken mistaken, a misunderstanding, an impulsive act committed in late night fury. He had wanted Minho to see him in the light of day, and somehow picking up a dress had felt like an easier landing to reality. Perhaps even after everything he had still feared that Minho would be appalled by his male sex.  
  
That had not been the case. After a morning of kissing and bickering, his wig and underwear and skimpy little dress had all been thrown away, and Minho had had him as he was. Kibum had not been able to catch even a glimpse of rejection in his eyes, only sincere adoration and violent lust.  
Minho was like a puppy in love.  
  
"I'm sorry," Kibum murmured and ran his fingers through the thick strands of Minho's hair. Minho narrowed his eyes open, looking at him with swimming eyes.  
  
"Sorry?" Minho muttered back, still delving in his post-orgasmic haze. "For what?"  
  
"For being so difficult," Kibum replied, hesitating for a moment. "For putting you through so much because I couldn't be straightforward with my feelings."  
  
"I think we both have some room to improve," Minho admitted. "I've been dense, too. But this is a start, isn't it?"  
  
Kibum smiled, even thought his conscience was not completely clean. He thought about all those times he had acted on a jealous fit, chasing girls away, stealing Minho's attention on a critical moment. Even now, laying in Minho's arms with his ears ringing from sweet nothings, he felt like a cheat. A winner, surely, but still a cheat.  
  
"You don't get it," Kibum said. "You are still so oblivious, Minho. I'm trying to apologize for all those times I've ruined your date, or acted irritated around a girl you like. "  
  
There. He had said it. Minho looked at him with round eyes, almost like he had had not understood what he was trying to say. Kibum's chest tightened. Could it really be that Minho had no idea...?  
  
"And?" Minho said.  
  
"And?" Kibum repeated, dumbfounded. What was there to add?  
  
"What about it?" Minho asked. "Kibum, I swear. You are always acting like you are some criminal mastermind, that I'm someone that needs protection and extra guidance and real life subtitles or something. I'm no genius, but you really don't give me any credit, do you?"  
  
"What do you mean?" Kibum asked with a frown.  
  
"I can tell when you don't like someone, Kibum," Minho said. "Actually, I think most people can. You are not very good at hiding your feelings, even if you would like to think so."  
  
Kibum was flabbergasted.  
  
"Are you saying--?!"  
  
"No! I had no idea this would happen," Minho said. "But I knew you didn't like the girls I flirted with, and... Well... I suppose I didn't mind all that much." Minho scratched his head and grinned boyishly. Kibum wanted to punch and kiss that smile away from his lips.  
  
"You," he groaned and shoved Minho down to straddle his hips and pin his shoulders down on the mattress. "You have been playing me all this time!"  
  
"No, no!" Minho laughed, surrendering to Kibum's temper. "It's nothing like that! I genuinely had no idea until, well, until I met Gwiboon. She showed me that there is more to love out there, and I don't have to settle for something convenient when I can have everything. That I don't have to find someone just like my best friend when my best friend is exactly what I want."  
  
Kibum took a moment to digest it all.  
  
"Then..."  
  
"Kibum, do you really think giving some girl a stinky eye makes you a horrible person?" Minho asked. "Do you really think you could stop me from falling in love with a few glares and huffs?"  
  
"Be quiet, Choi Minho."  
  
"You couldn't even stop me from falling for you," Minho continued, to Kibum's delight and annoyance. "Even if you were a bit insufferable at times."  
  
Kibum covered his mouth with his hand, stopping any more words from escaping.  
  
"You, Choi Minho, are a disgrace to all human race," he hissed. "And I love you so much I'm about to burst."


End file.
